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Thursday, August 4, 2016
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
OPINION
LARA MOEHLMAN
EDITOR IN CHIEF
JEREMY KAPLAN
EDITORIAL PAGE EDITOR
BRADLEY WHIPPLE
MANAGING EDITOR
420 Maynard St.
Ann Arbor, MI 48109
tothedaily@michigandaily.com
Edited and managed by students at
the University of Michigan since 1890.
Rushing to the end
I
was closely following the
convention this week, as
a
good
politically-minded
student
does.
Blown
away
by the high-
minded
oratory
and
passion from the likes of the
Obamas, Khizr Khan and Joe
Biden, I began to get nervous for
Clinton’s big moment. Her address
to the world as the first female
nominee was billed as “the biggest
moment of her career,” which
is a lot of pressure for anyone,
let alone a noted introvert. In a
sea of idealistic (and potentially
unrealistic), Clinton represented
incremental
pragmatism.
Not
necessarily
the
aspirational,
inspirational candidate we saw
eight years ago. It seemed like so
much was riding on this speech, so
much which, in the past, Clinton
was unable to deliver. And all
I could hear was “Fight Song”
looping incessantly and cloyingly
both on television and inside my
head. Both my nerves and my
irritation grew.
As
she
entered
the
stage,
beaming ear to ear and in a
gleaming white — you guessed
it — pantsuit, Clinton appeared
confident, cool and ready. Her
speech
was
relatively
solid,
not crazily awe-inspiring or
laced with satire, but what did
you expect from her? From the
“texts from Hillary” meme to
the role she took on as First
Lady, Clinton has always had
the no-nonsense reputation of
getting into the behind-the-
scenes work. She’s known for
meeting with Republicans while
in
office,
passing
practical
bipartisan
legislation
in
the
Bush-era legislature and trying
—
sometimes
unsuccessfully,
and sometimes incorrectly — but
trying nonetheless, to slowly but
surely change policy.
And then the camera panned
over to the audience. In the
corner of my eye, I glimpsed her.
A girl, not older than thirteen,
stood on the sidelines, gripping
a “Stronger Together” sign, a big
braces-filled smile on her face
and her wide eyes behind frames,
hopeful and glassy. That was when
I felt it, the weight of this historic
moment. Until then, I had been
pragmatic about my support for
Clinton. She was experienced
and was winning, therefore I
was going to get behind her. But
when I saw this girl, coupled with
Clinton’s line, “when there are
no glass ceilings, the sky’s the
limit,” I became filled with a love
and an obligation to my younger
self and to girls everywhere. I
became enthralled by the history
of the moment, and I became
enthusiastic
about
Hillary
Clinton.
This was the moment I realized
that this night, this convention,
this election, was for the girls. The
girls who are told from age 2, when
their little brothers and sisters are
born, that they will be just such a
good mommy one day. The girls
whose moms never faltered in
showing what true strength and
sacrifice looked like. The girls
whose dads realized why gender
equality was so important when
they first heard their daughter’s
mind at work.
This is for the girls who practice
their class presentations over and
over again because their voices are
too quiet or too loud or too angry.
The girls who are told to smile
more. The girls who are told to let
boys be boys. The girls who take
the group project into their own
hands, but share the A+ grade with
everyone on their team. The girls
who know that despite doing this
work, they’re still paid less in the
end. The girls who try so hard that
they sometimes lose their way, but
they keep going and keep searching
and keep striving. The girls who
sometimes have doubts in their
abilities, especially when they are
the only girl in the room, but keep
working and learning and growing
anyway. The girls who are told to
ask fewer questions. The girls who
are told that reading that much
gives your eyes wrinkles. The girls
who get angry when someone tells
them to just take the joke. The girls
who are scared that hard work
won’t be enough to get recognized.
This is for the girls who are told
that they can’t wear pink or they’re
not going to be taken seriously.
The girls who are told that they
can’t play sports or be an engineer
because they’re not going to find a
man who will like them. The girls
who train harder at practice, put in
more hours at their part-time job,
take time to comfort their friends
and never, ever stop caring about
what they can do for others.
This is for the girls who have
never had a woman to lead them,
a woman to look up to, a woman to
let them know that this it is truly
possible to put yourself out there
and actually win. This is for the
girls who have never had a woman
to lead them, a woman to disagree
with, but a woman to represent the
powerful apex of the nation. This is
for the girls who want to see more
women who look and feel a little
bit more like them rise to affect
change at the highest level, today
and tomorrow.
This is for the girls who are now
women, but deep down are still
those audacious, caring, brave,
hardworking, bossy, intelligent,
thoughtful girls.
—Madeline Nowicki can be
reached at nowickim@umich.edu.
I
can’t handle how quickly this
summer is coming to an end.
It seems like I just got out of
classes,
that
only
a
few
days ago I was
moving out of
my dorm room
and into my summer housing. It
seems like yesterday I was excitedly
meeting up with my friends who
were also staying in Ann Arbor
for the summer, and making over-
the-top plans for how we would
spend our free time together, like
kayaking or going on a road trip
(most of our time together was
actually spent watching movies and
TV shows). I feel like I still have a
lot more relaxing to do, a lot more
napping that needs to be done, a lot
more TV that needs watching. I feel
like I need more time to prepare
myself for what is coming next,
because what is really scary to me
about the fact that the summer
is almost over is that my college
experience is also almost over.
OK, I’m only a rising junior, so
it’s not like the end of college is
really imminent, but I feel like I
haven’t earned the title of “junior”
yet. I still feel like that freshman
who nervously sweated whenever
a professor called on her and who
spent hours during Welcome Week
trying to find where all the classes
on her schedule were so that she
didn’t show up late to class on
the first day. And though I’ve
accepted the fact that I’m now late
to everything and that the pain of
embarrassing oneself in front of an
entire college class is something
I will just have to live through, I
don’t feel like an upperclassmen.
I’m not mature, I don’t have my
life together (whatever that even
means), I don’t have the wardrobe
I deserve — all things I thought
I would have by the time I was
considered “almost done” with my
college career.
In all seriousness, though, I
honestly feel like my life is moving
way too fast. Even the people who,
to me, have their lives together
confess their fear at thinking about
what is to come, their disbelief at
how quickly their time at college
has gone by. We all knew that
college would be a defining time in
our lives, but we didn’t know that
it would be over so soon. Maybe
my fear isn’t focused on how not-
ready I am for the future, but how
I still feel like I need a lot more
time to goof off and be a kid — or
at least a stupid college student.
To be honest, how ill-prepared and
confused I’m feeling is making me
incredibly nervous for the future
and forcing me to realize that what
I was taught by “13 Going on 30”
that nobody ever actually feels like
an adult is completely true.
How are we expected to live our
lives when it seems like everything
is moving at 100 miles per hour? I
have this image of myself going
down a waterslide, and in this
image, instead of allowing gravity
to do what it does best, I’m pushing
against the plastic walls for dear life.
Perpetually stuck in the same space
by choice, water rushes around me
until I eventually get tired and give
up, tumbling awkwardly down the
waterslide (sorry about the terrible
metaphor).
This
is
sometimes
what I feel like doing — forcing
everything and everyone to stop
changing. Of course, I’m not sure
how I would accomplish this feat,
but also something tells me I should
stop wishing for it. Maybe it’s the
final seasons of “That ‘70s Show”
and “Scrubs” that subconsciously
taught me that sometimes change
and giving up is the better and less
disappointing option.
So how do we deal with a world
that moves so fast during the period
in our lives where everything is
changing? How do we find stability?
To be honest, I have no idea. The
world is now a place where people
rarely have the same job their entire
adulthood and everybody is always
moving around — I’ve been told by
my parents that my twenties will
be the wildest ride of my life. I’m
not sure where my life is going,
what job I will end up with, where
I will end up living — so many
important aspects of my future
are completely out of my control.
Instead, I’m trying to focus on the
things within my control: who I
spend time with, what I spend time
on, what I decide to. I don’t want to
look back at my twenties and realize
that I took every opportunity that
came my way and met a bunch
of new people, but that I never
developed any good friendships,
never stuck with one cause, never
laid
any
foundations.
Values
differ from person to person,
but relationships are what I have
decided to focus on. Though I
didn’t decide where the highway
was being built, at least I can
decide to stay behind the wheel of
the car.
—Elena Hubbell can be
reached at elepearl@umich.edu.
This is for the girls
ELENA
HUBBELL
MADELINE
NOWICKI